


Club night

by FruitBird (KiwiLombax15)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, But consensual, M/M, Sex Club, The great tumblr offload, This one's just dirty fun, Trans Junkrat, hole in the wall kink, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:06:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiLombax15/pseuds/FruitBird
Summary: Sometimes a Rat just likes to unwind...





	Club night

The club had no name.

A tiny little establishment beneath an old coolant tower, down in the cellars. It wasn't a dirty place, Junkrat had very little shame but he wasn't a fool. But the cramped and out of the way location felt safe and private to him.

The bouncer nodded at him. He was a known face here.

The night was still getting started, a few patrons getting drinks. There was one bloke in the corner getting a gobby, but otherwise things were still quiet.

He waved at the owner, who was stocking up the bowl of condoms. The club was nowhere near as plush as the ones the high ranking gladiators got to enjoy (and that it was rumoured the queen frequented) but he was never one to skimp on essentials, even at the cost of frills.

“Gidday, mate! What's on the cards this weekend?”

“Thinking of setting up the wall, maybe. Usually a crowd pleaser.”

Junkrat's head shot up, a jolt spreading low in his guts.

“Got a person yet?”

The owner gave him an appraising look.

“No, now that you mention it. And I know that look in your eye. No worries, makes my job easier.”

He drew out a card from his bag and picked up a pen.

“Anything you ain't into?”

“Not the front hole. Never much liked that being touched. Otherwise I'm fairly game.”

“Anal...only...” the owner painstakingly wrote. “Gotcha. You go get clean in the bathroom, I'll set up the wall.”

In his haste he almost tripped, nearly falling over his own pegleg in his haste and eagerness. He took his time getting clean, though. That wasn't something you could afford to rush. And as a final note, he reached into his bag and pulled out of his own plugs. The club didn't have shared toys. It wasn't very safe. He sighed at the familiar, satisfying stretch, picturing on of the patrons slooooowly pulling it out before-

He shivered and bit his lip.

Tonight was gonna rule.

Naked except for a towel he padded out to the back of the place. The wall was a custom job, easily removable. Part of the hole was a sliding panel, lined with soft cloth and easily adjustable. The owner nodded to him.

“Ready?”

He dropped the towel, his little dick already showing signs of interest.

“Ready!”

The panel was slid back and he eagerly shoved his upper body through, feeling it lock solidly into place. There was a panic button if he had to get out ASAP, but the feeling of helplessness was still heady even if not real.

He clenched his fists and waited, ears pricked for noise behind him. There was a low murmur and the whisper of cloth as the screens were dropped, leaving him so exposed.

He whimpered and bit his knuckle.

God he wanted this so bad.

The interested buzz died down as the club settled into the evening routine, Junkrat just another sideshow for those inclined.

There were footsteps behind him, a calloused hand stroking over his thighs. Junkrat jerked and cackled on instinct, the hand drawing back sharply in surprise, before returning to draw out the plug with a suddenness that made him yelp.

Then a slick cock was pounding into him and he was crying at how good it felt.

Junkrat could never be accused of being a quiet fuck. He squealed, yelped, swore and praised, body jerking like a live wire. If there was one thing he disliked about the wall, his partners couldn't pull his hair but you couldn't have everything he supposed.

The hands on his thighs were squeezing tighter, the thrusts losing rhythm. Looked like this guy didn't have much stamina, but not bad for a warm up. A sharp thrust that made his eyes cross, a wheeze, and they pulled out. Not enough, nowhere near enough.

Then there was the click of a cap, and the gentle press of a marker on his thigh. A single tally mark.

He felt giddy. He loved this most of all. Not just the tally marks, a record of his stamina and motivation for his personal best, but the lewd little comments (and sometimes rather sweet and lovely ones) scrawled on him. He was always disappointed when they inevitably faded.

Hands gripped his hips again and a flash of devilment crossed his mind. Cackling like a demon, he started kicking out, a silent challenge:

Earn it.

His partner seemed to get it, grabbing his good knee and yanking it up with a good strong grip.

“Yeah alright! Good o-ONE!”

The cock in him wasn't long, but god was it thick. Both wonderful and tormenting, filling but just not long enough to hit the really fun spots. Junkrat started thrusting back as far as the wall let him, growling in lust and frustration. So...close...just a bit...deeper...

He snarled to himself as they finished, pulling out and scribbling something on his back.

So close, so fucking close...

That seemed to set the tone for the evening, an unspoken message around the club to tease the living shit out of the nights entertainment. Slick fat cocks only giving him a taste before fucking him fast and shallow, feather-lite touches that made his skin tingle like sparks. One cruel bastard teased and rubbed his twitching little cock until Junkrat was slack-jawed and wailing, before pulling his hand away just in time.

Soaked in sweat and drool, Junkrat clenched his fists and growled. He loved a good teasing as much as the next but this was getting ridiculous. One more like this and he was tapping out to find someone for himself...

Then the floor creaked behind him. An animal instinct made him still, listening carefully. There was heavy, raspy breathing behind him, a feeling of utter presence.

His gut clenched in molten lust. Obediently, he adjusted his stance, ready and eager. No teasing for this big unit...

A hand the size of a dustbin lid grabbed his meager ass and he whimpered in longing.

“God please...no more teasing. Fuck me, god please fuck me!”

There was a clink of buckles behind him. Belts? Strap on? He didn't care he didn't care. He just needed. The stranger grunted.

“You're the boss.” 

The voice was a thunderstorm, an explosion on the horizon, shaking him to his core. Then that wasn't the only thing shaking him as he was filled suddenly, deep and uncompromising. He cried out and a deep dark chuckle on the other side of the screen made him shake.

There was a pressure on his hips, one it took a while to register as the persons gut, resting on him heavily. How strong, how powerful must they be, to get that big? All that power for little old him.

They decided he'd had enough time to adjust and drew their hips back, before slamming into them like a wrecking ball.

It was heaven.

Exhausted, Junkrat found it in him for one last performance, pushing back against the massive hands as he wriggled and bucked under him, squealing and yelping and rambling filth as he was fucked wet and open and sloppy.

“-Do it big guy break me fucking wreck me give it t' me right t-ahh! There there therethereth-!”

He came hard, locking up and going limp as he went off like a mine, nothing in his head but pleasure and sheer relief, the kind of orgasm he could feel all the way down to his toes.

He came down but his partner wasn't done, pounding away behind him. Junkrat went limp, knees like water as nothing but his partners massive hands held him up. Tongue dangling, drooling over himself, he relaxed into it, the thick pounding length deepening the soft headspace he hung in. Nothing to think about but pleasure. Nothing to do but chase another high.

Heaven. 

He came twice more before his tired body protested, not the searing pleasure of his first but soft warm ones that left him putty in his partners hands. (Mind you, after five minutes in those hands anything would be putty) He giggled weakly at that thought. But fun as it was, he was done. Tired. Worn out.

He hit the panic button, trying to whisper through his parched throat.

“Nah, I'm done, mate. No more.”

Junkrat was left empty as they pulled out, writing something on his inner thigh before walking off. He could hear the owners voice as the privacy screens went back up.  
“Fun's over. You know the rules, mates.”

He was helped out of the structure, carefully led to the recovery rooms. For all the owner was a cheapskate, there was cleaning supplies and snacks, soft blankets to wrap up in and snooze in the purest Junkertown luxury of all.

Utter safety.

The blankets seemed to sing to him, but he was too sticky for that. Reaching for a damp cloth, he paused and glanced at the last little message scrawled on his inner thigh, among the tally marks and love hearts.

“Good piggy. R.H.”


End file.
